


Hollow

by SamJoinedtheReconCorps



Series: A Flame in the Shadows [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Essek is a sad boy, F/M, M/M, Pre-Feelings, Reunions, Slow Burn, he just needs friends guys, post ep 57, spoilers for ep 97, the start of a, unacknowledged yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamJoinedtheReconCorps/pseuds/SamJoinedtheReconCorps
Summary: Caleb keeps an eye on Essek as he leads the Mighty Nein to the Dungeon of Penance. The way this odd group of mercenaries interacts with each other is strange - tapping into a part of Essek that he'd long buried away.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Yeza Brenatto/Nott
Series: A Flame in the Shadows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648909
Comments: 20
Kudos: 226





	Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back babes, after a bit of breathing time that is
> 
> while I'm still deeply DEEPLY affected by the events of episode 97, I'm out here going back and just tapping into that Essek interiority with this newfound information and LET ME TELL YOU IT IS JUST FUCKING BREAKING MY HEART IN A WHOLE NEW WAY
> 
> ESSEK THELYSS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BUT DAMMIT DO I WANT TO FUCKING KICK YOUR ASS BOY
> 
> i really hope you guys like this

Caleb watched as the Shadowhand continued to lead them towards the Dungeon of Penance, giving one last look at the Marble Tomes Conservatory - at the promise of books and information and the potentiality of new magic. The potentiality of _dunamancy_.

He squared his shoulders, resuming his memorization of the path they were taking, doing his best to shake the thought out of his head. He needed to focus, not let himself get lured in by new magics - he needed to keep his head clear to make sure he could get them out if they were double crossed.

No matter what the Bright Queen had said, he wasn’t about to just believe that they were _truly_ considered heroes of the Dynasty. Pulling out the beacon had been a desperate attempt at keeping them alive, a last second gamble with their lives on the line - the fact that they were still breathing, and _not_ in chains, was much more than he hoped, but he wasn’t about to throw away their freedom by falling into a trap that he could help them escape from. He couldn’t afford to be careless here.

Keeping the Shadowhand in his peripheral vision, Caleb took in the spiral walkway that took them underground, opening up to a large cavern. Almost as if imitating the stars in the Rosohna sky, the ceiling of this cavern was glittering with glowing moss, up hundreds of feet above their heads. It was beautiful in it's uniqueness, and it made him wonder if there were other caverns, other hidden beauties within Rosohna, beauties that are unknown to the greater world as Xhorhas was written off as a country of brutal savages.

Thus far, they had been nothing but understandingly distrusting and nobley courteous - nothing like how he had been raised to view them in the Empire. The drastic disconnect made him believe in his pursuit for peace even more.

The walk through what he assumes is the Shadowshire is uneventful despite the many eyes that trail them as they pass. While the attention is certainly warranted - he has seen no humans or tieflings or firbolgs thus far - it makes him uneasy, and he has to fight the urge to drop his gaze to the ground. He needs to keep memorizing the path.

It's not long before the Shadowhand leads them to a severe looking structure, the most intimidating building they’d seen thus far. The iron spires and burning braziers make it look cold and formidable, and Caleb can only hope that they never find reason to wind up here. He and Nott had escaped prison together before, but he didn’t want to test his chances against the Dungeon of Penance.

As soon as they approach the gates the guards open the doors, letting them through without comment. And as soon as they step inside Caleb knows that his attempts at memorizing the path will be futile here.

There’s a blur to everything and everyone as they make their way through the winding halls of the prison, halls that twist and turn and grow fuzzy along the edges if Caleb tries to focus on them. The guards that walk past shimmer as they pass by, moving both slowly in their approach and departure, much like his _slow_ spell, but almost vanishing from the speed that they pass them by as if they’d been _haste_ d.

The only people in focus are those in his immediate group, and he knows everyone must be similarly affected when Jester glances at a passing guard and quietly mutters, “Ooooh, cool.”

They speed through more corridors before Jester turns to the Shadowhand. “Essek, it feels really weird down here.”

“As it should,” he answered, glancing over his shoulder. “You have not been here before.”

Jester watches another pair of guards whisk past them, the manacles in their hands unmistakable even with the disorienting magic warping their movement. “You’re not going to like, leave us down here or something, are you?” she asked, eyeing him carefully.

“Was that part of the deal?” he replied, answering her question with one of his own.

“No,” Jester says, although she still sounds unsure - as almost everyone in the group feels.

The Shadowhand gives a low, quiet laugh, before continuing on. Caleb isn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried by his reaction.

It's only a few more minutes before Fjord breaks the silence. “Do you not feel the same, uh, effects?” he asks the Shadowhand, waving his arm for emphasis on their surroundings.

He smiles as he shakes his head. “No,” he answered, glancing over his shoulder again. “Time is one of my specialities.”

And Caleb knows that if they hadn’t already been surrounded by the strange time distortion of the prison, he would have felt time stop as soon as those words were out of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss’ mouth. It was obvious they all had to be on the Shadowhand’s good side since he was their handler - but now Caleb had a whole other reason to get closer to him.

Caleb was glad that the disorienting magic made it impossible to track their progress in the prison. He didn’t think he’d have been able to continue focusing on the path when he couldn’t take his eyes off the Shadowhand.

* * *

Although the trip down into the Dungeon of Penance couldn’t have taken more than 20 minutes, Essek knew that the group had no idea how long it had been. Whether it had been 10 minutes or an hour, they were at a loss and at his mercy here, and taking the reins of control after they had thrown everything so unexpectedly off the rails felt good. Reassuring. Everything was still as it should be.

When he finally brought them to a stop outside of the proper cell, nodding to the guard standing watch, almost all of the group took a few steps forward before realizing they had stopped - everyone but Caleb. He swayed dizzily on his feet, sharp enough to recognize Essek had paused but unaccustomed to the effects of the magic.

Without thinking, Essek moved closer to Caleb, catching his arm gently to help steady him. It was the lightest of touches, brief, mere seconds of contact, but the way Caleb looked at him made him remember himself.

Just as quickly as he’d moved to help he was gone, standing right outside the cell door and pulling out a set of keys from his mantle to unlock it. He tried to forget the look in Caleb’s eyes - the questions hiding amongst the blue, the interest and distrust present and warring in his gaze. All he hoped is that it had happened so fast that no one even noticed Essek had gotten close.

The gate opens with a creak that allows him a breath to compose himself. Stepping away from the door, he turns to the group. “Well then, the prisoner is all yours.”

Jester and the goblin exchange a nervous look as the half-orc asks, “How long do we have?”

“As much as you need,” he tells them. He has absolutely no rush at the moment - whatever happens here might even help him figure out how to best move forward.

“Thank you,” the half-orc nods. “And, how do we s- will you stay or do we call?”

“Oh, I’ll be right here,” he answers, giving a small smile and folding his hands beneath the folds of his mantle.

“Excellent,” the half-orc says quietly, looking towards the goblin.

“Essek, do - do we get to take him? Do we leave with him, then?” Jester asks, looking earnestly hopeful.

And yes - this is something he can decide. This is something the Shadowhand does. “Depends,” is his cryptic answer.

Jester and Caleb are both barely opening their mouths to say something when the goblin speaks out. “Do we have to kill you to get him out of here?”

That makes Essek laugh again, less startled like his laugh was earlier and much more amused. “I’d like to see you try.” He looks down at her, at her set and unflinching expression. “Uh, no,” he elaborates. “I get to decide.”

“Oh,” Jester nods, as if she’d expected that.

“Are there specific criteria?” Caleb asks, finally speaking since they’d first entered into the Dungeon of Penance.

“Maybe,” is as much as Essek can muster without giving too much information as his eyes land on Caleb.

“That seems very fair,” the half-orc steps in again, ready to diffuse whatever this conversation is turning into. “Our intentions are very simple.”

With Jester’s next words Essek is almost certain this is the kind of stuff the half-orc was trying to avoid. “Essek, I really think you’re very handsome and that, um, you seem like a really cool guy and I hope we can be friends and stuff.”

Flattery - not a novel tactic by any means, but certainly a rarer one when trying to get him to give someone what they want. Leaning in, Essek answers with what he hopes is a charismatic smile, “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” Jester grins.

There’s a lull in their back and forth as the group seems to realize that they can’t postpone going into the cell with the prisoner any longer. Caleb drops to his knees in front of the goblin, asking gently, “Are you okay?”

“Nope,” she answers, sounding absolutely shaken as she stares at the open door.

“Well, if it's any help,” Caleb starts, glancing around at their group, before turning back to her, “You’re not alone. No matter what happens, we’ll be here for you.”

And those few words which are meant to reassure - which probably do reassure the goblin - strike a chord in Essek that hadn’t been touched in decades. It reverberates through him, highlighting all the hollow parts he hides beneath his mask and mantle. Essek averted his gaze.

While he tried to allow for their conversation to have at least a semblance of privacy, Essek couldn’t help but hear Caleb say that Jester had been talking to the prisoner - and Essek knows she did it through magical means, and it makes Essek seethe internally, it makes his inadequacies churn and boil in his chest to realize that he hadn’t even the faintest idea that the prisoner was having communications with anyone. This had all been happening right beneath Essek’s nose, an oversight that he was already paying dearly for since it had led this group right to him.

The goblin continues to shuffle nervously as the rest of the group encourages her to go inside. Jester brings out some perfume to give to the goblin while the half-orc peeks into the cell, probably to ensure that the prisoner was even inside.

Seeing them be uneasy and worried that maybe they may fall into a trap reminds Essek that no matter what, he still has the upperhand here. They’re at a disadvantage in the Dungeon of Penance, and in Xhorhas. He knows the lay of the land, has read all the tactical reports about how the Empire soldiers fight. He has Dunamancy on his side. It helps calm his fraying nerves.

“He’s in there by himself,” the half-orc told them, turning back to the goblin. “Are you…?” he gestures to her.

The goblin closes her eyes, muttering something quietly to herself as she passes a hand in front of her face. Her form shimmers, changing her from a goblin to a halfling, her green skin turning a warm brown, the maw of teeth disappearing and looking much less menacing as she opens her eyes to show they are no longer yellow, but brown.

Essek knows there’s definitely a story here, but he doesn’t have enough of the pieces to put it together.

She lets out a shaky breath, turning to Jester. “But you go in first -”

“Yeah, you look really good,” Jester smiles.

“You go in first,” the goblin - halfling, now - insists. “Okay, set me up.”

And so Jester walks in, to preface the illusion and subsequent reunion.

It doesn’t take long at all for the prisoner, Yeza, to ask for the goblin - and Jester immediately assures him that while she is outside, and waiting, she looks different.

“But she still loves you so, so, so, so much that we all had to come here for you,” Jester tells him, genuine fondness in her voice. “We came really far to rescue you because she loves you so much.”

Essek feels it again - the yawning chasm in his chest. Being the Shadowhand as a new soul, as a new soul that hasn’t even reached _150_ yet, means not showing even a hint of weakness, no emotionality, nothing that could be exploited. But here these people are, full to the brim with emotions, putting themselves in danger for each other all over _love_. Essek knows that if anyone had asked him if anyone would ever endanger themselves over love, that he would have scoffed at the notion. Yet, here he is, witnessing it firsthand.

That quieter part of him wonders again - wonders if there are people out there that would ever do that for him. The cynical part of him doubts it.

Glancing around, Essek watches as the rest of the group are looking around at each other, Caleb giving the goblin a reassuring smile as he stands. He catches the human woman subtly tracking his movements, as she leans against the cell wall with her arms crossed.

Essek is confident in his poker face, knows that this stranger won’t be able to read him, but he reminds himself to keep his face perfectly blank nonetheless.

“If I show you, will you, um, promise not to laugh or cry or, you know, throw a rock or something?” the goblin asks now that she’s been inside for a few minutes, and Essek tunes back into their hushed conversation, dropping his gaze to the ground again.

“I promise,” Yeza answers quietly.

There’s a beat of silence before the goblin speaks up again. “She’s really strong, so if you did, she might just like -”

“I would cut you,” Jester says without hesitation, still standing at the door to the cell.

“Yeah,” the goblin agrees, before seemingly realizing what Jester threatened. “Nah, no - I was going to say, like, restrain - don’t, he’s my husband.”

“Don’t you hurt my friend,” Jester said, the threat still very clear in her voice. “She loves you so much.”

“Who…?” Yeza begins to ask before he just nods, “Okay.” There’s a second of silence before he starts again, “Who is -?”

“She’s my friend,” the goblin answers. “I have a bunch of friends. They’re all outside, they’re probably poking their heads in right now -”

And sure enough, when Essek glances up from the ground, Caleb and the tall, rugged woman are peeking in as the half-orc waves a hand. There’s a brief greeting from Yeza, but it's lost on Essek as he watches them, watches their curious encouragement and the fond looks they give each other. The fond looks they give their _friends_.

Essek isn’t sure he has any friends, not anymore. He’d written them off long ago when he’d focused solely on dunamancy and his Shadowhand duties, on working to sharpen his wits and intelligence to rise higher than anyone else on the Bright Queen’s council. He’d written them off when he decided he would be beholden to no one but himself - because that’s what these people were. They were beholden to each other, weak for each other. What the goblin had with the prisoner was even more dangerous, a crippling weakness that dragged her and all her friends into this, into enemy territory, into such terrible danger.

This only proves that he’d made the right decision ages ago, the best decision for himself he could have ever made.

He can see Jester stepping out of the room finally, giving the rest of the group a happy smile as she leaves the couple to their reunion. Caleb mirrors the smile.

Essek almost manages to ignore the pang in his chest. Almost.

They can all hear their quiet conversation, can hear Yeza’s intake of breath when the goblin drops the spell and shows herself, and then the following soft words. It's heartening, to hear that Yeza didn’t reject her - Veth, Essek finally learns is her name - and the following silence is warm and relieving rather than painful.

There are a few more soft words before Veth speaks up about her fears and worries, about their safety and the safety of their son, Luc.

“One of us needs to get to him,” Veth tells Yeza. “And I don’t know if it can be you. I don’t know what - what they have planned for you.”

“You mean the - the lady?” Yeza asks.

That makes Essek’s eyes snap to the door.

“Yeah, what lady?” Veth responds, sounding confused.

“DeRogna,” Yeza answers. “The one who hired me.”

And _of course_ DeRogna hired him. The name brings some relief to this situation now that he knows the essence of the things this chemist was getting into.

“Who’s that - who’s that -” Veth sounds anxious, her voice growing louder. “Who’s that? Caleb!”

“Yes?” he says quickly, and Essek’s eyes dart to him, seeing the way his already pale skin grows even paler.

“Who’s DeRogna?” Veth repeats.

“She’s a part of the Cerberus Assembly,” Caleb tells her, voice drawn low. His face is unreadable as he answers, turning towards the door.

And that response catches Essek off guard - Caleb _knows_ DeRogna, knows she’s a part of the Cerberus Assembly. This makes Caleb even more intriguing as it yet again complicates things further because _what does he know_ , what are this man’s origins that he has this information so fresh in his mind.

Essek barely hears Veth introduce Caleb to Yeza, barely catches how she gives him credit for saving her life as she calls him the second smartest man alive, but his eyes never leave Caleb. He watches him greet Yeza, watches the way his coat collar partially obscures his face. He can barely see the bright blue of his eyes, and now they look almost haunted as he nods politely to Yeza.

Caleb gestures at the group outside and they slowly file in, waving and greeting Yeza so he can actually see their faces rather than their shadowy silhouettes, and Essek can see that Caleb is trying to keep eyes off of him as everyone’s attention is on Veth and Yeza.

He watches Caleb scratch his forearm, his fingers digging into the fabric of his coat sleeve.

And then Yeza mentions that DeRogna works with really powerful people and that she had hired him to work on some experiments and suddenly Caleb is speaking up again.

“Maybe you could tell us all about that later over dinner or something.” The intention in his voice is clear - _we can’t talk here_.

“Okay,” Yeza agrees, seemingly catching on.

“After we leave, we’ll get you fed -” Caleb begins to promise.

Subtle, but not subtle enough for Essek. He didn’t just become the Shadowhand because he was Umavi Thelyss’ son.

He finally steps into the cell with the rest of them. “Or we can discuss it now, as the means of your release.”

Jester lets out a quiet “Oh” as Veth nods hesitantly, “Sure.”

Caleb looks almost pained as he turns to Essek. “What do we need to cover here,” his eyes meet Essek’s, “sir?”

Their shared gaze is loaded, charged with the tension that has filled the room but also with a flare of heat Essek will never admit to. Essek drops his gaze to look towards Yeza.

“This DeRogna,” Essek starts, feigning ignorance, “what did they hire you for? What did you do, and what do you know of what you’ve created?” He knows he looks polite yet severe and intimidating, exactly the way he wants to appear.

“Uh, I mean - I don’t have like a special talent or anything,” Yeza stutters out. “Uh, she hired me, she brought this, this - this strange box thing and, ah, she began to, to - to do experiments.” His brow furrows. “She brought some people in to do different types of magic - arcane, divine, I don’t know the variations there - but, but they would be able to pull this, like, weird, ethereal film out of it, kind of like this gray mist. And then it was my job to try and find a compound that it, it would adhere to so it could be, uh, brought into an actual, ah,” he makes a gesture with his hands, “usable, physical form. And, uh, they paid well - said it was for the good of the Empire, and - and Empire’s always been kind to us. And I -”

The half-orc begins to cough loudly, cutting Yeza off. “Excuse me,” he apologizes between coughs. “I’m just gonna -”

“In it's very limited way,” Veth chimes in, finishing what Yeza was saying. “Just like making sure the roads were okay.”

“- step outside, just for one second,” the half-orc gets out, moving to step out of the cell.

Essek can see right through them, can see the way they interfered with what Yeza was saying, but he allows it. For now.

“For - for months,” Yeza starts up again, “we worked in the basement. Uh, she’d, you know - I, I, I began working on trying and - it - to get this to work and it was just - it was really frustrating and they were frustrated with me and they were threatening to cancel the contract. But then I, I - I found it - I found a compound that, that would actually bond this material to it and - and distill it and we made one - one successful vial of it.”

The experiments were working - finally, _finally_ bearing fruit. He hoped to keep his eyes cold and calculating, to hide the thrill that this information was giving him.

It was easier to maintain the mask when it hit him that he hadn’t heard of any of this from his _partners_ , that he was only finding this out now that the prisoner was finally talking. It left a bitter taste in his mouth that quickly soured his growing excitement.

“Ah, it was, it was - it was a breakthrough. I was proud - she’s usually very intense, but she was very - she was very nice that day. She was very positive,” Yeza nods. He looks to the ground as he continues to explain. “Um, she, she said this was good work, she appreciated it. Uh - she, she said that, um, they’d hold off on the experiments for a while. She took the box back with her, saying that they were going to hire me to make a lot more of these soon, um, and they were going to ramp up production. They’d hopefully be able to provide enough gold to where we could buy a new home for me and Luc - and, now - now you!” Yeza says, turning to Veth. “Um, we were thinking like Deastok or Trostenwald or something.” His expression drops. “But not but two days later, the house was attacked.” He meets Essek’s gaze. “Thankfully, Luc was off at Edith’s house and they, they destroyed everything. They asked me questions, but Lady DeRogna said not to tell anybody anything, and that if anybody was told about what we were doing that she would take Luc away and I - I can’t let that happen.”

The bitter taste in Essek’s mouth grows stronger. Threatening a man’s son. He barely managed to keep his face from twisting in disgust.

“Um, so she - she can’t know about this,” Yeza’s expression turns pleading. “She cannot know about this, please.” He looks away again, his words now a rush. “They dragged me through all these terrible places, chained to like a giant nightmare, this worm thing, and they brought me here and they just watched me from the shadows, asking me questions about experiments and starving me. But I didn’t - I didn’t say anything because I knew you were coming and I - I, I didn’t want anything to happen to Luc and -” his shoulders sag. “I didn’t tell them anything. That’s it.”

“Very well,” Essek nods. He’d heard more than enough. “It seems that not all forms of interrogation are effective, but alternate means can be.” He glances around the group, catches Caleb’s eye for a half-second longer than the rest, “The prisoner is free to go. He is your charge now.”

“Really?” Veth asks, very much in cautious disbelief.

“Of course, we have what we need,” he tells her. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Jester and Veth both echo back, small smiles breaking out across their faces. Caleb and the human woman are watching him carefully, and over Caleb’s shoulder he can see that the half-orc is keeping a close eye on him as well.

“Close up the cell,” Essek calls out to the jailer. “We no longer have reason to use it.” He moves past the group, stepping back out. “Come, I will bring you back to the surface.” He looks down at Yeza. “And you come along as well, my friend.”

Yeza gives him a skittish nod and a small, “Okay,” as Essek turns and begins to walk, feeling them all fall into step behind him.

The walk out is identical to their travel inside - a blur for those affected by the dunamantic field of the prison, but just a normal walk for him. It takes no time at all before they’re once again outside, standing in front of the prison.

“That’s why I don’t drink,” Jester says under her breath.

Caleb sways a half step behind Essek, clearly dazed. It’s all too easy for him to reach out again, helping him get steady like he had when they had stopped outside Yeza’s cell.

“Well, if you’re looking for a place to stay, I have a recommendation,” he turns to Caleb, but instead of looking at Essek he’s looking down at the hand Essek has on his elbow. Essek pulls his hand back instantly, and he watches Caleb blink and shake his head, as if he was trying to decide whether he had seen that correctly. Essek continues without missing a beat. “I can go ahead and lead you to the Gallimaufry. It is the,” he looks around at them, “the more rowdy district. Seems to be a little more your style. There is the Dim’s Inn. We’ll get you a room there.”

They nod as the firbolg steps up, “Also, ah, might, ah - might be looking for a blacksmith at some point, too, if you have a recommendation for someone who’s, uh, extremely skilled, someone who you would be impressed by.”

Essek looks off towards the rest of the Shadowshire as he thinks. “Don’t do much in blacksmithing, not my speciality.” He raises a hand from beneath the folds of his cloak to give a light shrug, leaving soft wisps of dunamantic energy in the air to punctuate his point.

The firbolg nods. “Seemed a man of taste, I just thought I’d ask.”

Returning the nod, Essek says, “We’ll see what we can do, but for now, let’s go over to -”

“Will we be disturbed there, at the inn, for being outsiders or anything?” Veth asks. Essek notices that she’s holding Yeza’s hand.

“Not with those medallions,” Essek reminds them. “I recommend not losing them.”

“I won’t,” Veth answers.

“Good,” is Essek’s short reply. “Come.”

They follow Essek as he leads them towards the stairs, talking amongst themselves. Essek glances over his shoulder and catches sight of Caleb putting a hand on Veth’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. The movement is something so small, so innocuous, that no one else pays it any mind. 

The chasm howls hollow again.

Essek allows himself to watch a second longer as Caleb pulls away, moving to fall into step beside the human woman before he turns back towards the path he is leading them down, heading towards the Dim’s Inn in the Gallimaufry.

**Author's Note:**

> and here we are, still hurting :(((
> 
> I actually really enjoyed having that small bit from Caleb's point of view at the beginning, I'm definitely planning on exploring things from his perspective a little more, especially when Shadowhand Thelyss is being so good at hiding his true intentions
> 
> anyway, thank you guys so much for reading, I really hope you guys liked it!!
> 
> This fic was inspired by the scenes found in:  
> In Love and War | Critical Role | Campaign 2, Episode 57 - 1:13:00 - 1:49:30


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